Wake Me Up When September Ends
by Fluff Muffin
Summary: So Hogwarts is just a memory now, and we are prepared for the war that is sure to take hold of us. But Harry needs to get his priorities straight. And a certain young blonde needs to understand. [Mainly DMHP Slash, Yaoi and Yuri, Lemons, Violence, Etc.]
1. I Lie When I Speak To You

**Wake Me Up When September Ends**

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**Disclaimer:** I must admit, sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's contents, and all that. It all belongs to… Well, you know whom. And I'm sure she's very happy, too. This is the point where I sigh dreamily…

**Summary:** Another year is about to begin, and it holds the with it the battle, the very battle that will decide the fate of the Earth. But before we get to that, Harry has got to get his priorities straight. This is the story that formed a war. Contains graphic lemons, Yaoi/Yuri, Slash, Various pairings, violence, and other things that you may well find disturbing.

**Rating:** For the first part, the story may not seem so bad. But it get's bad, trust me. That's why from the very off, the rating is NC-17. There's no point letting you guys read it when you'll suddenly have to stop.

**Pairings:** Mainly revolves around Harry/Draco, with some Snape/Draco, Snape/Narcissa, implied James/Lucious. Other pairings most likely include, Hermione/Ron, Luna/Ginny, Luna/Pansy, Fleur/Bill, implied Fred/George Incest there for you. Maybe some Remues/Sirius, and some Bellatrix/Tonks too. I'm sure they will develop of their own accord.

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**Chapter One:** I Lie When I Speak To You

"Pain is a sign that the one you love is hurting. For most this would mean themselves, but for the odd few we differ."

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He had given up wishing to see the sunlight a long time ago, for now it finally came to him that he would never see it's glaze again. He resented it, slightly, all though he knew it to be true, for at least when he was wishing, it gave him something to do.

The cell in which he sat was black, and though, struck by no light it did not seem as dark as he remembered it to be. That is what he did you see, closed his eyes, and then opened them again, it always looked different somehow in his mind. Most likely to be an imprint of how it was when his body was first thrown in there so harshly – and that imprint he has never rushed for his mind even to this day.

How long ago was it? It was hard to tell now. Loosing all sense of time, and direction. It could have been yesterday, or it could have been years. In fact quite a lot of things were lost to the young man now. It took him years to build his persona, to become who he was, and yet here it had all been taken away from him so quickly, and so easily – that was the thing that actually scared him, chilled him as he sat – back pressed firmly against the stone wall.

The cell was not to large, and not to small either. It seemed to be the size of a small room, and yet looked nothing like a small room. There was a door, and that was it, apart from the chains that hung idly from the stone-work. He was lucky not to be chained to said items, though he once was, he could remember such a time, somewhere in the back of his mind. The only source of murky light was coming from the tiny slit under the door, that lead out into the stone work of the old, very, very old building. It was most likely his only source of air too.

The man, for he was a man now, sat with his knees raised, arms cradled loosely passed them, his palms against the floor. He did so, just to see if he could feel the cold, but nothing seemed to run through him, not even the chill.

His features had changed, and not for the better. All his life brought up to believe that appearance and image would give anyone a good or bad idea of you, he had been taught to put it first – but he could barely reach his soul in this place, so what hope was there for his outer looks? His skin had always been pale, but it had paltered, and now it looked lost of any colour what so ever – drowning any expression he may have held in a sea of mist. His hair looked dirty, matted, and had grown slightly over the month he had been there.

For it was a month, though he didn't know it.

Suddenly, and distracting him from whatever thoughts may have been trying to find way into his lost-looking eyes, there was a slight noise that sounded like something rusted being dragged over something else, the door cracked open, allowing one ray of light to travel it's way through the cell, making it's way towards the young man. He looked up stunned, as if trying to get away from it, his hands slammed down against the floor, but his body did not move.

He all ready knew who would be there, and without even having to look he knew he had been right. In place of the light, stood a man taller and older then he, dressed all in black like himself. It took him a while to realise, but the ghostly figure was actually moving towards him, like the stricken form of a dementor, moving across the mist it created like the path of light that was erupted from opening the door.

Severus Snape knelt down in front of the lost body of one of his once most favoured students, if you could truly call him a student – for they had both known as they posed in their rolls. "Come of age, I see, Draco." He said, simply. No expression in his voice, all though a smirk on his face was all it needed, and the young man's head snapped upwards. "Such a shame you had to waste these times in such a place as this." Snape continued, his eyes began to scan the room, looking around out of nothing less then interest.

Ever since they had made their escape from Hogwarts that month ago, what was it, in June time? Draco had found himself in this very cell. Of course, the Dark Lord had not been so happy to hear that, corned, outnumbered and virtually paralysed, Draco had still not been able to raise a wand to Albus Dumbledore. And, of course, Snape had taken his glory – but that was not what the man was after, for he was a true servant of Voldemort, and he understood that no one was even worth a single thing in the eyes of the Lord.

No amount of glory to those around him would ever make him significant to the greatness of the Dark Lord.

Malfoy hoisted his expression slightly, and anyone who had been watching the display would have seen that, yes, there was still some fragment of the boy left within him. "What do you want?" Draco managed to hiss out, he saw no sense in being respectful to the wizard anymore.

All his life he had been told family was everything, being a pureblood mattered, you would and could get anywhere in life depending on whom you were born too. Now his father was in Azkaban, his mother was not favoured in Voldemort's eyes, and living on bought time, and as for himself… Well, he had failed the task. That's all he knew, and equally all he needed to know.

Snape however, seemed slightly amused by the whole thing. Seemed, being the key word there, for he was most certainly not – but that's how Draco saw it. Still knelt, so their eyes met, all though he noticed Draco's pupils trailing away, Severus lifted his hand, and snagged the boy's chin between his long, slender fingertips. "That is no way to speak to me, Malfoy. You used to be such a respectful young man." He said, almost with a hint of sadness.

Malfoy did not bother to move, "That was before you betrayed me…" He hissed, or tried to rather, for his chin was still in the clutches of the dark Wizard.

"Betrayed you, did I?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

Pushing his head back, trying to get away, Draco only found that it slammed back against the stonework of the wall behind him. His eyes glared up at Snape, fiery, hungry for any sort of justice – but he himself had gone outside the lines of justice, so he was not going to have any left to use for himself. "You let me do all the work, I did it all – and then, seconds away from killing him… seconds… you stole it from me!" Draco cried.

"Oh Draco, my poor boy." Snape said, his head lingered upwards, and shook slightly. Then he began to laugh, Malfoy had not been expecting this, and his face crumpled in a puzzled manor. Realising the boy's chin, Snape leaned back slightly, and as casually as if he were explaining something to a student in a lesson again, he began to speak. "You are not a killer, are you? You are not meant for this. You had him… it would have been- so easy. But you just could not do it."

Snape reached out, and before Draco knew it his hand was clotted firmly on the boy's dirty hair – he ran it down, stroking said strands of blonde, and smiling. Though it sent shivers down his spine, Draco did not speak, but worked on hiding the emotion instead. "You don't really have much to live up to that hard, school-bully, spoilt-brat attitude of yours, do you, boy?" Snape asked, more harshly.

He did not answer, he was too lost in vague thoughts, ro maybe wishes, that Snape's words were wrong, that he would get what is coming to him, that he… Draco Malfoy, had done the great thing.

"Then why am I here?" He asked eventually, breaking the silence. "Why has the Dark Lord not killed me yet? Or I could be used for something else, I can fight, I can kill – I know I can, I have pure blood in my veins, do I not?" He snapped, word after word before he had even taken a breath. His body was almost raised of the floor, "I am a Malfoy!"

Snape got to his feet, as if he were repelling Draco with some sort of invisible shield. "I would not be boasting about such things, at the present moment in time, Draco." Snape said simply, and without care, as his body turned, and his black robes swept to the floor once again, dragging around him, and whirling in a draft that was not even present in the cell.

Draco, with teeth gritted, tried to also get up. "Don't turn away from me! This is all your fault!" His messages seemed to be mixed, and to be truthful the young Slytherin had no idea what he was shouting anymore.

Bur the man to which he spoke did not seem to care, and quickly closed the door. And to it's slamming, Draco was once again left alone, to the chime of the slam, which was left ringing In his ears. But after all, he was just happy to finally be able to hear, or sense something, after going so long – that to him, was at least, a sign of life.

But he would get his revenge, somehow… He would please the Dark Lord, and get what he wanted.

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Severus was all ready halfway down the corridor before those thoughts had all ready found a way out of the young man's head. He was pulling at his robe, which strayed behind him as he turned a corner in the maze of the corridors of the castle. That was where the Death Eaters were hiding, an old castle, probably Middle Aged, a remote location, it was not the best chosen – but the Death Eaters would not have to live in hiding for much longer, so they had no fear.

Just by looking at his face you would have guessed Severus was amused by this whole Draco incident – but he was not, for if he was he would not have bothered bringing the boy back to the Dark Lord in the first place – in the back of his mind, yes, he thought Voldemort would simply kill Draco, but now the Lord's plan was finally starting to make sense in Snape's head too. And he was busy forcing down thoughts that he didn't like it… that maybe… he dis-agreed.

But that could not be allowed. It was a good job Snape was good at concealing his thoughts.

Before another thought could even slip into his mind, he was taken aback. Literally. Someone had grabbed onto his arm, and pulled the man around to face them. But he all ready knew who it was, before that happened. She opened her mouth, but he quickly silenced her with his own words, before his eyes even met her. "Let go of me, Narcissa." He said, not too harshly, but firmly, and simply. Enough to let her get the message.

The blonde woman was stunned, but she did not do as she was told. She barely even listened to him before starting. "Severus! Please! Listen to me, it's not your son that is locked in those infernal walls! It is mine!" she was almost sobbing.

Snape, barely even hearing her, was busy removing his arm easily from the woman's grip. Then, and only then, he turned to gaze at her, and realised exactly how desperate she really looked. But there was nothing he could, nor wanted – or at least, let himself believe, he wanted – to do about it. Looking away before he spoke, he finally said; "What do you think I can do to help you?"

She answered before he'd even finished, and even Snape looked a little shocked. "The Dark Lord allows you to see him! He does not let me! He does not let me even once, not even on his birthday!" She screamed, "He came of age in there, and I did not even set my eyes on him! I barely know him anymore!"

"Your right." Snape said, as if making casual conversation, "He has changed."

Narcissa screwed up her face, trying to hold back tears – and for a second, Severus almost thought he felt something somewhere for her, but then it began again. "How is he Severus? Please… you have to let me see him, let me in, or at least speak with Lord Voldemort-"

With both hands on her shoulders, he finally managed to silence her, stop her talking for one second, and as he did so he relished in the silence it brought to the castle's walls. "Calm yourself, woman." He ordered, and it was exactly that, like a demand. She was quiet at once as soon as he had said those words, whimpering slightly. "I can do none of which, and I shall not either. It is under the orders of the Dark Lord that he remain there."

"But why? Why has he not killed him?"

"Would you rather your son dead?"

"Of course not! That is not what I meant-"

There was a sharp cracking noise, and Snape had to react quickly in order to catch the boy of the woman in his arms, as it fell forward so suddenly. He had seen it coming, but it was obvious Mrs. Malfoy had done noticed it. He looked down, her body was as pale as ever, and stiff as ever too – clamped together. He had to hold her in line diagonally with the floor to keep her steady.

Where Narcissa had been standing, now stood a dark haired woman, taller then her sister, and with an expression much more understanding to the cause of the Dark Lord. Her wand was out, and she still did not lower it. Snape frowned slightly; "You would hurt your own sister?" he asked, and quickly added, "Was this under the rule of Lord Voldemort?"

"Not exactly." Bellatrix shrugged, lowering her weapon. "But her time is running out. The Dark Lord has confided in myself-" Snape remembered thinking how cocky that woman was, that she would think herself his most loyal. "-And told me that her time is running out, he is worried about her loyalty and she, without her dear family, is not of much use to him."

Snape almost cracked a smile, as he spoke once again. "You mean you, obviously being the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, could not persuade him otherwise?"

Bellatrix's expression hardened, and her wand rose. "Do not mock me!" She exclaimed, gritting her teeth to keep in the anger of her voice.

Severus was not even phased as he went about ordinary business, picking up the stupefied body of Narcissa until she was safely in his arms, and then looked past the locks of blonde hair which were as frigid as the rest of her body at the woman's sister. "Know that I would never mock you, Miss LeStrange." He said, with little care. "But I do not wish of you to make killing family members a habit, after all she is only a woman trying to protect her child-" he stopped, to look as if he were thinking. "-Child. Now that is family also, isn't it?"

"If you refer to that rouge Black, then I do not understand your reasoning. I was rewarded well for his death." Bellatrix said, her voice was still keeping strong all though she looked confused. However it was obvious to Severus the woman was not allowing him to see such emotion.

"No doubt." He let the words dryly linger on his lips, before finally turning away from her. His first few footsteps began to echo down the halls as he began his walk away. "But if what you say is true, then yes, it is the will of the Dark Lord – and so it shall be done, by you, none the less. I am just heart-stricken to know what lengths you would go to do continue his bidding."

"I would go to any lengths! As would we all!"

Bellatrix did not humour him more, for she were smarter then that and stood her ground, blocking the gloomy corridor and watching the man walk away carrying her sister. The anger that was in her words had seemed to vanish so quickly after she had finished the sentence.

Snape nodded, looking briefly over his shoulder, "Indeed you are right – I know I would." But what Bellatrix was most likely forgetting was that Snape was an expert, and as she spoke he was not listening to her words but her thoughts instead. He agreed with her to, for she was thinking that it was likely that Voldemort would one day ask for the execution of Narcissa Malfoy by non other then herself, but Snape looked beyond that, to the wonder in Bellatrix's mind, 'Could she possibly kill her sister?' And thought she would never show it, it was there.

**Well, how was that for you all? For a first chapter I hope it was all right, for I am slightly worried about this story for it is my first real big fan fiction story and I want it to be good. Don't worry about that chapter, it is going to be a lot better a lot sooner then you think! So, please drop a line and give me a review and we'll see where we go from here, then?**

**And also, can I just point out for your benefit, that yes, this if my first story and is going to hopefully a novel-type of length story. So keep coming back for more guys! Wish me luck!**


	2. Snow In The Summertime

**Well, here I am again – It's the holidays! So I thought I should use this time to update quickly for those of you kind enough to read my fic. And for those of you who are reading, please review and leave comments and such for an author likes to know when his or her work is appreciated, or some comments that could help.**

**At the moment I am just a tad bored, I hadn't planned to write the second chapter for a while but with nothing else to do I give in. So let's go for it, shall we? I hope you enjoy it, yet again!**

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**Chapter Two:** Snow In The Summertime

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You may think that being stood, dressed from head to foot in black and white robes with Lord knows how much white flakes falling, second after second, on your sore head might not be the ideal situation, but for Harry it made a welcome break from the morning that he had been having, and in fact, the month that he had been having.

Instead of finding the Hucroxes, like he was meant to, he had gotten caught up in the preparations for the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur (Soon-to-be) Waesley. And it was fair to say Molly was in full-swing mode and hence those preparations were not pretty. But Harry had not minded staying at the Burrow, along with most of his closest friends, for he would come of age soon and then it would not matter, he would have a choice to where he were to stay.

"It was much better when mom hated Phlegm." Ron sighed. The redhead was sat next to Harry, and did not look as pleased with the situation as the sixteen-year-old did.

But Harry had agreed with his words, all though he had not spoken. For the team of Fleur and Molly made a horrible one – they were always rushing. This morning was the worst, when Fleur's sister had failed to turn up and Fleur had decided to make Mrs. Weasley Maid of Honour instead – Harry had thought the woman was going to cry.

Harry began to look around, though his usual glasses. Everyone was there, Ginny stood next to her mother looking very annoyed, Bill, most of his scars healed but still looking quite rough, even Tonks and Lupin – to the groom's side. She was cradled onto his arm lovingly, her usual shade of hair brighter – and herself, thankfully, back to herself.

She had even joked this morning, after choosing a nice baby blue hair colour that she could be the Bride's "Something Blue". But Fleur had not understood, and looked like she was about to slap Tonks. Even after everything the two seemed to still be at each other's throats.

But soon, very soon, it would all be over.

He was split – that was it. Happy, he was trying to be normal but things dug at the back of his mind, wondering what the point was? He had to fight, things were going to happen sooner or later, and what ever became of Malfoy? Quickly Harry shook his head, who cared about that backstabbing ferret? ...But Malfoy had not killed Dumbledore… In the end – but he had meant too! And that's what Harry forced himself to remember.

Ron raised an eyebrow at his friend as the boy violently shook his head, and leant in slightly. "You all right, mate?" he asked, quietly, as he noticed his mother sending him a piercing look.

Harry nodded quickly, "Yeah – it's nothing." He lied simply, he was becoming rather good at lying, or saying very little at all, in fact he barely talked very much at all. He could not even bring up the subject of Malfoy to his friends, they got fed up of it even last year, and that was only when Harry was trying to blame everything on the blonde man.

But it didn't matter now; none of it mattered now, not now… Harry just faked a smile, for he knew that it would be one of his last chances to be truly happy, and have a good time, for after this day nothing would be the same, everything would turn around, and there would only be chaos, loss and fighting. And no one, in their right mind, could be happy with that.

He wafted some of the snow out of his view to see Bill and Fleur kiss - did this mean it was over? Sighing, he leant back and looked up at the blanket of artificial snow Bill had created from the tip of his wand for the ceremony. Harry wished he could do that, create things, so easily.

But he couldn't. Magic was useless…

Suddenly, uproar burst out and cut the young man from his daydreaming. People were standing up all around him, it looked like someone had turned the whole place into one of those games you play at an arcade – hitting each rising object with a toy hammer. Harry found himself lost in a mass of stood up witches and wizards, and looked around desperately, trying to see what was going on.

"C'mon. It's over!" Ron stated, rather too happily.

Harry straightened his glasses, and rose up. "Oh… yeah, right."

Ron eyed him, as his friend rose to his level. "You don't sound too happy." He didn't wait for an answer, but rather began to talk once again. "I'm telling ya', I am! That was the dumbest-"

"Ugh… Ron…" Harry had now noticed something the redhead may have wished to notice.

Slowly, Ron turned behind on himself. The look on his face let Harry know that he was all ready half expecting it anyhow, things like this always happened to the Weasley boy. Stood, hands folded and eyes firmly set with a hint of anger on Ron, stood their third and final best friend – Hermione Granger.

Admittedly, she looked neater then usual, Fleur had offered to do her hair and before Hermione could say 'No', Mrs. Weasley had commented that she thought it was an amazing idea. So the seventeen-year-old witch now stood in front of her friends, looking quite annoyed, with her hair French plated to the scalp. It really made her forehead look a lot bigger, or so Ron told himself. Unfortunately, this statement in his head seemed to make him laugh.

"What's funny, Ronald?" Hermione jabbed quickly, not changing her expression. She looked past the immature boy, and to Harry. "Did you enjoy the service? It was rather sweet…"

"Sweet?" Ron sounded as if he was going to choke, but Harry cut him off.

He nodded quickly, "Yeah… Yeah it was great." He smiled to her. But it was true, he enjoyed it to a certain point – the fact that this would be the last normal thing he did in a long while made sure that he enjoyed it.

Hermione, not fully convinced let down her annoyed-guard, letting her arms fall by her sides and bit her lip slightly. She had been the one who had noticed something was wrong with Harry all summer. She had asked only once though, and he had quite frankly turned away from her – after that she had seen no point in asking; she thought she knew what it was anyway.

She was wrong.

Before she could open her mouth though, there was a voice cast over the whole crowd. Everyone was talking, laughing, and congratulating each other and the likes. But Bill's voice cut through all of that then some swift knife. Harry guessed it was because the words 'Party' and 'Drinks' could be heard so clearly. He looked up, trying to glimpse the other Weasley but he was barely able to see the top of his head for the rest of the crowd.

After clearing his throat, Bill shouted. "We shall not be heading back to the house, for rounds of drinks and hopefully what is to turn into an amazing party." He tried to say, though Fleur had attached herself to his arm and he was laughing – And trying to shove her off at the same time, or so was Ron's theory as he whispered it to Harry.

"Well, that settles that." Ron grinned, "Let's get going!"

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows, "Oh? I thought you'd be eager to get to the party." She sighed, waving her hand as if dismissing Ron's behaviour. With that she turned.

Ron rolled his eyes, hurrying to follow her. "Of course, why else would I even be here?" He asked, quite harshly.

Though they were a few metres away from Harry by this time he still managed to hear their bickering. "-Because it's the wedding of your dear elder brother, to Phl-"

"Phlegm, was that, Hermione?"

"No! Of course not." Hermione stated innocently. "Fleur." She corrected herself.

Harry was barely conscious enough to hear that the muffled words had stopped. He turned, wondering why they had suddenly vanished and saw that both of his friends had now turned their gaze towards him instead. For a second the boy was confused, but he quickly shook his head. "Are you coming, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"Yeah, sure." Harry replied, and hurried to catch up with them.

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Laughing. All he could hear was laughing.

Harry found himself squeezed in between two rather large people that he really didn't know. He was trying his best to breath, as the two seemed to be having a conversation without realizing they were victimizing the boy in the middle. Once again, the woman began to laugh and Harry squirmed slightly to try and move out of her way. He was pretty sure they were drunk, and if they weren't well… That would be even scarier.

He felt a sudden chill on his wrist, which managed to send shivers up his spine. His head clicked to one side, fairly quickly to see what appeared to be a glint of red. "Huh-!" He barely had time to utter the word before he was pulled quickly away from the middle of the two drunken folk, and out into the open.

They were in the middle of the Wesley's living room, at this point. The mat was free, a small area of free space. After all, trying to fit so many people into such a small house was amazingly hard. Most of them had just bailed outside, or upstairs, or anywhere to be honest.

Harry didn't like parties much, and he hadn't had a drink.

That's probably why he recognized the person in front of him only too well. It was his ex. Girlfriend finally changed out of her bridesmaid dress, which she hated so much. She was beaming up at him, as she let go of his wrist. As a silence fell over the both of them her expression faded, and in it's place she let out a sigh – annoyed at the confused look that seemed to always fall on Harry's face whenever they would speak.

She shook her head, "You looked like you needed saving." Ginny explained.

Harry quickly whipped a hand to the back of his neck, and let his face dull to form a smile to the younger. "I guess I did." He nodded, "Thanks for that."

Harry was glad that things had not ended so horribly with Ginny. The fact was that he really didn't feel right with her, simple, isn't it? He did not have a clue the reason she thought it was because of, but Ginny herself had seemed to move on as well – This was the best part of it. He had never meant to hurt her, and if they had stayed together he most likely would have. This way was best fro everyone, and it was amazing that they had worked that out for themselves.

He had always heard stories, and seen people at school who never worked out well once they had broken up, even if it was for a decent reason – He had even felt it with Cho, but now he realised that that relationship had never been right in the first place. He supposed it didn't matter now, she was one thing he'd never have to face again.

Ginny interrupted him, leaning forward. "You don't have a drink?" she phrased. It wasn't meant to be a question, but it came out as such.

A bewildered Harry quickly shook his head, one moment he had seemed confused and then, more suddenly he glared down at her own. The glass Ginny was holding in her slender fingers. "Aren't you a little too underage for that?" He asked, for a second, sounding more like her father then anything.

The girl smirked, "Aren't you?"

"But I don't have one." Harry pointed out, beating her. He then smiled, "And besides, I won't be for much longer."

"Oh yeah… Your birthday."

Harry was one of the youngest In his year, and unlike his friends and most of the people around him he had not yet come of age. His birthday wasn't too far off though, luckily. Once he has come of age he would be able to take his apparition test – even though he'd done it before many-a-time, he didn't want to peruse anything illegal, and from there on he would be able to do what he wanted. Especially when he didn't have to return to Hogwarts.

He wasn't happy about that… And he would never, ever pretend otherwise. But it had given him a chance and an opportunity, for things that he saw as much more important, things he needed to peruse, things he needed to find, things he needed to save… Things that needed changing.

"But don't worry, If you haven't got me anything, I doubt I'll be around for much longer after it." Harry spoke quietly, though there was no need too really given the loudness of the room around him.

The redhead turned her face away slightly, she wished she could argue but she knew there would be no point. She couldn't change his mind, that was one thing she'd learned. And why would she want too? Who's to say he wouldn't be doing the right thing anyway? Harry himself was trained by Dumbledore, and now is most likely one of the closest people to knowing what he would have wanted.

And everyone would have listened to Dumbledore, right…?

"Nothing's going to be the same again, is it?" Ginny asked.

The question had taken Harry by surprise. He blinked, puzzled, behind the reflection of his glasses, trying to think about what she had asked. After a while, he had decided to lie. "It'll be fine."

Ginny frowned. "I'm not stupid." She hissed.

"But believe me." Harry seemed to drag that sentence out, as he watched her. "You'll be fine." If nothing else, she still was his friend, and that counted for everything.

But he had no doubts that she was right. Maybe not for Ginny, maybe not for Ron, nor Hermione, nor most of the people that were there tonight. But certainly for Harry things were going to change. He knew it even before Dumbledore had died, but the difference then was he was not the only one. He didn't feel so much responsibility – The old wizard had guided him, but who did he have now? He felt like he was suddenly in charge, but no one else seemed to see it that way. What did they know?

He would never be able to just laugh with his friends again, or stand here and talk to Ginny about pointless things. Everything he had spent his whole life doing would soon be lost, and all today was doing was reminding him of that.

There was going to be war.

"Coming?" Ginny asked.

"Huh?" Harry looked up.

She laughed at him, almost falling over – It seemed even she was a little tipsy at the moment, or maybe she was just acting that way to steer his attention from what he seemed to be dragging himself into. "Too come see Bill and Phlegm!" She announced happily, the smile never leaving her face.

There was going to be war…

But not yet.

Harry grinned. "Okay." He stated.

**There we go then boys and girls, another random chapter done! Hm… I got kind of bored though that and had some serious writers block, so I'm sorry it's so short and I'm also sorry that it might seem pointless to you, but we need a sort of introduction apart from Draco and Snape and all them evil lot… **

**Anyways, remember to leave Badger some reviews! And, I shall try and update a hell of a lot sooner then I have been doing in the past for you, I'm not really that evil – I just kind of got caught up in coursework and such.**


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